


you can pin and mount me like a butterfly

by Anonymous



Category: The Smiths
Genre: M/M, dressing room flirtations lmao, just another johnny and moz moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: title from 'reel around the fountain' by the smiths.
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Anonymous





	you can pin and mount me like a butterfly

*

“ _There_ you are.”

Johnny waltzed into the dressing room. “Need your help here, Mozza.”

Morrissey nodded and turned from where he was reading, looking up attentively at the guitarist.

“Need some opinions on these.” Johnny said. He was clutching two shirts in his hand.

“Fashion advice?” Morrissey said, pretending to be shocked. “Johnny Marr is asking _me_ for advice?”

“That ok?”

“I thought you said yesterday that I looked as though I had raided a Granny’s charity shop?”

Johnny laughed then. “Sometimes you do, Moz. S’nice though. I like your style.”

“I’m rather flattered.” Morrissey rolled his eyes, unable to keep smile off his face.

“So, this one or this one?” Johnny held up the two shirts, glancing between them.

“That wont do. You’ll have to model them.”

“Model…? You want a fucking catwalk now?”

“Yes.” Morrissey smirked lightly, lounging back in the chair. “How else can I decide _fairly_ , Johnny? Fashion is a serious business.”

“You’re a pain in the arse, you know that?” Johnny said but disappeared for a moment. “Ok, first shirt, I hope you’re taking notes...”

“I was born ready for this Johnny. Proceed.” Morrissey called back, waiting.

After a minute’s pause Johnny waltzed into the room dramatically.

The first shirt was black with a paisley pattern and Johnny had left the top few buttons undone, some necklaces glinting against his skin.

“Hmm. Rather daring.” Morrissey nodded. “And _three_ buttons undone? Gosh. Are you channeling me now?”

Johnny laughed, pulling out his sunglasses and posing dramatically. “Just giving the fans what they want, Mozza.”

He turned on the spot slowly, hand on his hip. “Ok, you seen enough?”

“Hmm. I suppose.” Morrissey said lightly, his eyes lingering unintentionally. “Next please.”

Johnny disappeared. “Hope you’re taking this seriously.”

“Of course.” Morrissey quipped.

Johnny re-appeared a moment later, this time dressed in a dark grey and white stripy number, the shirt emphasising his slim frame.

He posed again, sunglasses still on, hair a little wild and untamed.

“Hmm.” Morrissey said slowly, drawing it out for all it was worth. “Now shirt number one was rather good… but I am enjoying this striped look, Johnny.”

“It’s not too boring?”

“You could never be boring. Not with that diamond glinting round your neck.”

“Don’t you have a striped shirt in your mad collection? We would match.” Johnny said, walking over to the mirror and looking at himself for a moment.

“How boyband.” Morrissey said in amusement. “I vote for shirt number two. Shirt number one is for when you are feeling daring though.”

“Daring? Thats _you_ with your barely there outfits.” Johnny said.

He walked over to Morrissey’s rail of clothes then. “Here’s a prime example.”

He pulled out a sheer shirt covered in polka dots, holding it up to the light to emphasise how see through it was.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Morrissey followed him over. “Are you saying you don’t like my harlot dress sense, Johnny?”

“Just pointing out its _you_ thats thats the risqué one.” Johnny said, replacing the first shirt and pulling out another one. “Oh here she is, my favourite.”

He held up a salmon pink shirt that dipped dangerously low, ruffled on the collar.

“And why is this your favourite?” Morrissey asked, touching the fabric.

“Its very _you_.” Johnny replaced the shirt with care. “And pink is your colour, love.”

“You’ve never told me that before.”

“Course I have. I told you that you looked fucking alluring in it.”

Morrissey laughed then, flushing at the words. “Johnny, you’re rambling nonsense now.”

“You cant handle the truth?” Johnny smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, thanks Mozza. Knew I could rely on you. Back in a bit, love.”

With that he waltzed off out the dressing room, whistling to himself.

Morrissey shook his head and sat back down to his writing, his mind very much full of a stripy shirt and sunglasses and a wild shock of dark hair…….

Bloody Johnny.

*

**Author's Note:**

> thank you again everyone for the nice kudos and comments!! its very much appreciated and really nice to know people are still reading haha.


End file.
